


One is Rather Lonely

by seasalticecream32



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-10
Updated: 2015-07-10
Packaged: 2018-04-08 16:13:27
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 716
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4311825
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/seasalticecream32/pseuds/seasalticecream32
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Molly needs to hear Sherlock say it just once before he leaves.</p>
            </blockquote>





	One is Rather Lonely

_“Just once.” – 23._

Molly didn’t allow herself to think as Sherlock pressed in on her. She didn’t allow herself to consider anything except for the way the smell of cigarettes and expensive cologne spun circles around her head. She wrapped herself up in the sensation of his mouth on her neck and his hands pulling her hips to his. She let herself get lost in the moan that vibrated against her skin when her hands slid over the nicks and bumps of scars on his chest.

He was warm and hard and soft. His fingers were careful when they pushed the edge of her skirt down until it crumpled around her ankles. Feather light touches trailed from hip bone to hip bone. His kisses pressed lower, to her collar bone, to the cleft of her breasts, to the bumps of her ribs. Every caress and stroke was followed by a murmur of words too low for her to hear. She did not bother trying to figure out what he was saying.

Molly pushed away all thoughts, intent to drown in Sherlock’s gentle worship.

When his mouth found her, his tongue wet and hot and flat over her center, she didn’t have to try not to think. Everything, from the press of his palms into her sides holding her still, to the lazy feel of his humming against her heated skin, drove away all the hidden worry and fear and wonder from her mind.

When he had finished, after her back had arched and her eyelashes had fluttered closed and her moans had turned to quick and quiet gasping, he stood. He gave her one desperate, longing look and left her leaning shakily against the wall.

She didn’t wait for her legs to regain their strength or for her breath to go steady or for her hands to stop quivering. She yanked up her skirt, smoothed over her blouse, and ran down the hallway. She crashed down stairs and scrambled through still swinging doors and sprinted down the street until she spotted a familiar coat swinging like a ridiculous anti-hero in a graphic novel.

Molly had never been good at not thinking. The minute he had stepped away and looked at her like she was a raft in the middle of the ocean, all her thoughts had spiraled down and hit her with devastating force.

She’d nearly tackled Sherlock before he turned around, startled and confused and dazed.

“Sherlock Holmes, you stop right this instant or I will slap you again.” She’d meant for it to sound angry and terrifying, but her voice was still shaky and she’d been running. “If you think you can do this again, I have news for you.”

He didn’t say anything, though his cheeks were burning brightly in the middle of the busy London street.

“I want you to say it just once before you disappear. Just tell me.” She took a deep breath, forcing her hands to still at her sides. “Just once.”

He didn’t ask how she knew he was leaving. He only ever did things like this afternoon when he was leaving. He’d left enough for her to know. Still, he didn’t respond, his eyes narrowed, his shoulders tense. He wasn’t saying anything.

“Sherlock, if you leave here and you don’t tell me, I will not be here if you come back. I am not sticking around so you can decide you… you love me when things get desperate.” She stumbled over the word, watched him wince.

“I don’t want you to stay for me. I assure you, I won’t be returning this time.” He paused and looked up, his eyes closing for just a moment. People were grumbling and rolling their eyes as they stumbled past. “Mycroft says I have six months. That’s the best I can hope for.”

“Then tell me anyway. I need to hear it.” Tears gathered and she didn’t bother trying to wipe them away. He knew she’d cry for him. There was no point in hiding it.

He tilted his head to the side, reaching out to wipe the tears from her cheeks. When he kissed her he tasted like salt and smoke. He spoke against her lips, a sigh and whisper and exactly what she’d needed.

“I love you, Molly Hooper.”


End file.
